she thought he was trying to convince the Bantu men to go closer to the soldiers.
The three men wearing tight-fitting red vests and white-beaded arm bands, whom Shifrah identified as Zulus, all shook their heads and walked away, vanishing into the crowd. But the five remaining hunters, who looked to be Shona from their patchwork trousers and intricately laced sandals, all stayed at Aker’s side and followed him toward the barracks.
“Now, Kenan,” Shifrah muttered. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it now.”
“No. It’s Aker’s move now.”
Shifrah watched the man in green, and he looked straight back at her, his eyes blazing with hate. He grabbed a pistol from one of the Shona men and aimed it at her. She yelled, “Gun! Get down!”
Half the crowd instantly ducked and a dozen people let loose shouts or screams of terror. The Songhai soldiers leveled their rifles at the Shona, and the Shona all raised their weapons in reply as several more bounty hunters jogged into the street. Shifrah grabbed Kenan as the detective sheathed the bright aetherium blade, and together they bolted into the crowd, putting two dozen soldiers between them and Aker.
“It’s my sword!” hollered Aker. “Put your guns down and give it to me!”
“Put your guns on the ground,” the soldiers hollered back.
“Lower your weapons!”
“Drop your guns!”
“Do it now!”
“Now!”
Shifrah didn’t see who fired the first shot.
Instantly the street transformed into a warzone of crackling gunfire, screaming civilians, moaning animals, twanging bullets, and running feet. In the surging mass of the terrified crowd, Shifrah felt a man elbow her aside, and she stepped on an arm, and a hand shoved her in the back.
She grabbed Kenan’s hand and ran.
Chapter 26. Qhora
The cellar was pitch black except for a single blinding ray of sunlight spearing down through a crack in the door. Qhora knelt by the door, peering into the crack. The room beyond the cellar appeared to be the inside of a shop, an empty shop with boarded-up windows.
“Well?” Salvator straightened his jacket and shook his rapier in its scabbard.
“All clear. It’s an empty room. And then we can just step out onto the street.”
“Can you see anyone on the street?”
“A few people,” Qhora said.
And that’s what we were waiting for. Although I’d hoped for more people, enough to shield us and mask our escape from the Temple of Osiris, but I guess we’ll have to settle for what we have.
“We should go now.”
“I agree.” The Italian gestured to the door.
Qhora led the way up into the empty shop and then cautiously out into the bright city streets. There were more than a few people out already, and more joining the press every few minutes. The shuffle of feet and clatter of hooves rose steadily, as did the dust.
“So. How on earth did you manage to get into the Temple?” Salvator asked. “I had to kill quite a few guards to do so myself, and I seem to have made a few enemies in the process. At least I managed to wrangle a few answers from those older gentlemen.”
“I surrendered,” Qhora said. “I surrendered to them, and they took me inside.”
Salvator snorted. “Well, that is just typical. A man has to fight his way inside, but a lady gets an armed escort.”
“They threatened to kill me.”
“Ah, well, there was much more equality there, then.”
The two walked to the end of the side street and joined the main stream of traffic on the broad avenue. Men and women padded by bearing baskets and crates, and rolling barrels in front of them. There were mule-drawn carts and ox-drawn wagons, men riding camels and women riding zebras, and even the occasional ostrich with a few cloth bundles on its back.
“It reminds me of home. A little.” Qhora nodded at a passing sivathera strutting past with a curtained carriage behind it. The huge beast snorted and bowed its long spotted neck toward a nearby horse.
“How unfortunate.” Salvator sniffed and winced. “I assume you did not find the Aegyptian or his sword.”
“No.”
The Italian stopped to survey the street with a squint in his eyes. “Well, my dear, it may be time to reassess our goals. I’ve learned what I came here to learn, and now I wish only to leave with my head still in place. We haven’t seen or heard a trace of our prey since we left Carthage. He may not even be in the city. Or he may have come here only to continue on to somewhere else. The only thing I know for certain is that the longer we stay, the more likely it becomes that we won’t live long enough to leave.”
Qhora nodded. “I know. And you’re right. We should go back to the rail yard and wait for Mirari, and then go home. Maybe when I return to Madrid I can hire someone to return here and find the Aegyptian for me. I have his name. I know where he lives. I suppose that will have to be enough for now.”
“More than enough.” Salvator resumed walking. He glanced up to their left. “I think your little friend has found you.”
“Mirari?” Qhora looked up just in time to see a clutter of wings and feathers and talons collide with her side. The nearby pedestrians stumbled back to avoid the harpy eagle as it flapped and shrieked, trying to balanced on the woman’s arm. Qhora grunted at the sudden weight of him, but she lifted her arm and allowed him to settle with his long talons locked around her bare skin. “Turi, you worthless thing. I suppose you spent the night gorging on fat city rats, or did you carry off a whole sheep to eat on some rooftop?”
Turi squawked and snapped his beak and blinked his huge golden eyes.
Qhora sighed and pressed on through the crowd with the Italian just behind her. She was only half certain that she was heading back to the rail yard, but she planned to wait a few more minutes before asking Salvator for directions.
“Dona Qhora!”
She turned to see a familiar masked face bobbing through the crowd, and then the rest of the Espani woman emerged, shouldering others aside roughly as she moved in a straight line across the street. And as she reached them, another figure emerged from her shadow. “Hello again,” Tycho said. “We’ve spent all night looking for you.”
“You’re both all right?” Qhora wrapped her arms around Mirari and squeezed her tight. “Thank the gods. And your God. How did you find me?”
“The bird,” she said.
“Ah.” Qhora smiled and stroked Turi’s head. “Good boy. You’re not so worthless after all.”
Tycho shook his head. “You scared me half to death last night, surrendering to them like that! I thought you’d gone mad.”
“It was a risk I was willing to take. But that’s all in the past now. What happened to you two last night?”
Mirari told her that they had followed her to the temple, then returned to the rail yard, and then returned to the Temple to wait and watch. “But my lady, I have news. We spoke with Captain Ohana. She knows of a way to free a soul from a seireiken!”
Qhora felt her heart seize in her chest. “But I thought that was impossible.”
“Apparently it’s not impossible. Just very difficult,” Tycho said.
“The captain said she was going to build a tool that could release the souls from the seireiken while we came to get you. If we bring her the sword, she might be able to free Don Lorenzo’s soul and let him find peace.” Mirari glanced at Salvator. “Did you have any luck finding the sword last night?”
